Overboard
by MagicalJordini
Summary: Oneshot. Harley gets injured on the job, and her crew abandons her. And the Joker isn't happy about that... Little bit of fluff, lots of action. Rated T for language.


**A/N:** This is loosely based on the music video "Purple Lamborghini" by Rick Ross and Skrillex (featuring our own Mr. J, Jared Leto). Harley gets injured during a heist and falls overboard. How will the Joker react? Favs/Follows, comments, and reviews are welcome :) Thanks, guys!

* * *

" **Overboard"**

It was a simple mission, really: steal a bunch of big guns and don't get caught. Easy-peesy compared to some of the heists they had pulled in the past.

One of the boys had caught wind of an arms trade happening at the harbor. Some war-torn country paying the US-of-A for a lot of firepower. The carrier was loaded up just outside of the city to be shipped off at dawn. That is, unless they got there first.

The Joker was nothing if not an enterprising businessman. If he didn't need the guns for his own gang, he knew they would fetch a good price on the black market. These were military-grade automatic weapons, guaranteed to take down any opponent. The only question was, what would he do with the merch once he got his hands on it? There was lots of mischief to be had. He could rob a bank, take out some competitors, oh! how 'bout a prison break?! He still had a few henchmen locked up in Blackgate.

The plan was to have five teams, three on the water and two on land. Land Team 1 (code name "The Electricians") was in charge of hacking into the harbor's power grid to shut off the floodlights. They didn't want to be seen, and getting up to no good under the cover of darkness was just more fun, anyway. Land Team 2 (code name "Muscle") was led by Joker's number 2 man, Jonny Frost. He and his 'brute squad' were charged with taking out anyone working on the docks that night. Can't have any witnesses, now, can we?

Water Team 1 (code name "Snipes") was comprised of three jet skis. They were positioned at various vantage points to watch the scene and make sure there were no unexpected guests. Water Team 2 (code name "HQ") was led by the Princess herself, Ms. Harley Quinn. She and a couple thugs were the bomb team, tasked with blowing the containers wide open. The trick was not to damage any of the guns or ammo. Luckily, Harley was a pro when it came to explosives. And Water Team 3 (code name "Big Boss") was the Joker's team. They had the easy job: get the guns and transport them back.

 _"Muscle Team. Coast is clear. Electricians, cut the lights,"_ Jonny called over the radio.

 _"Copy."_ One by one, the floodlights went out, until the only light on the harbor was the distant glow from the city.

 _"Snipes, got a clear visual?"_ Jonny asked. All three of them answered in the affirmative. _"Okay, give the signal, Boss."_

 _"Alright, baby, light it up."_

 _"You got it, Puddin'."_

Harley jumped from the bow as soon as they docked the boat. She and the three others snuck up the side of the docks, two of them carrying the explosives. They approached the carrier, stepping over the dead guards and onto the main deck. The crates were massive, sitting plainly on deck. Really, it was pathetic how little effort had gone into hiding these things. The team set to work quickly, placing the bombs on the crates in pairs. Once all the bombs were placed, they scurried back down to the boat and headed out to open water.

 _"All clear on deck, get ready for the fireworks!"_ Harley called over the walkie.

She pushed the big red button on her remote, and the bombs went off simultaneously. The harbor was flooded with orange light, and even from the bay, Harley could feel the heat. Once the flames had died down and shrapnel ceased to fall from the sky, the Joker radioed, saying they were going in. Muscle and Snipes reconfirmed their location and visual status, and the Joker's yacht careened into the dock.

Harley sat back on her heels, watching her Puddin' go to work. She loved watching him: the intensity of his focus, the sharpness of his figure. He had even worn a tux tonight. Say what you want about Mr. J, but you can't deny that he has panache.

She watched the boys carrying case after case of guns and load them into the yacht. But suddenly, her radio crackled to life, and Jonny was frantically telling them to get out of there. Harley looked up, and sure enough, there were the dreaded red-and-blue lights: the police. The last of the guns were hastily loaded, and the yacht took off at break-neck speed. Harley watched them dive off, her Puddin' standing squarely on the bow, green hair flying in the wind.

Gun fire erupted from both sides, as the Snipes and Muscle teams tried to fight back the cops.

"Should we get outta here, Ms. Quinn?" one of her henchmen asked.

"Yeah," she said, nodding.

She stood and braced herself against the railing as the boat sped off. They veered closer to the carrier as they turned, but it was the wrong move: a gunshot rang out, and the bullet hit Harley in the shoulder. The force of the bullet and the turning of the boat was enough to send her flying over the side. She landed with a splash, water filling her lungs as she gasped in pain. She resurfaced, coughing and spluttering, only to see the boat speeding down the bay. Great.

She began swimming towards shore, trying to ignore the blinding pain in her shoulder. If she could just make it to land… Sure, she may end up getting caught, but prison was better than drowning. Besides, Mr. J just restocked his armory. He could break her out in no time.

She finally made it, crawling onto the rocks with her last little bit of energy. She slumped onto the beach, blood and water dripping from her body. She looked at herself, and saw that the blood had stained most of her shirt. She needed to be patched up, and quick.

There was movement above her, and she froze. A dark figure was darting past the docks, looking for cover. Thankfully, Harley recognized his wild, wind-swept hair.

"Jonny!" she called out. The man stopped, locked eyes with the wounded girl, and immediately rushed to her aid.

"What happened to you?" Jonny asked breathlessly.

"Got shot. Fell overboard."

"Don't worry, Doll, I've got ya."

He swooped her up in his arms and carried her off to his getaway vehicle. It was cleverly hidden behind a group of trees, perfectly positioned so they were out of plain sight. Jonny set her down in the passenger's seat before scrambling into the driver's seat. He fired up the engine and took off towards the Joker's mansion.

"What about the other guys?" Harley asked. Her voice was growing weak, and she was starting to feel dizzy from the blood loss.

"They scattered. Besides, you're more important. If the boss finds out I left his girl behind, I'm a goner!"

Harley had always like Jonny – he was easy-going and charming, and he had a sort of brotherly affection towards Harley. He may have been prone to flirtation in the past, but he never overstepped his bounds with her. Not to mention, Mr. J trusted him implicitly. You couldn't say that about a lot of people.

The ride to the Joker's mansion passed quickly. Despite the high speeds, Jonny was a calm and controlled driver. He could've been a professional racecar driver, for all Harley knew. He sped through Gotham with ease, dodging traffic and skirting the congested areas of the metropolis. They were winding their way up the gated drive in no time. Harley's head felt like it was filled with lead, and it was becoming increasingly difficult to keep her eyes open.

Jonny parked the car out front of the hideout. It was a large, luxurious mansion located just on the fringes of Gotham: the best that money could buy. He counted the other vehicles in the yard. Everyone should be back and in the house. He turned back to the car, helping Harley out of the passenger side. She tried standing on her own, but she nearly passed out from the effort.

"Easy there, Kid," Jonny huffed, carrying her in his arms once more. "Just stay awake."

He kicked open the front door, and was greeted by a cacophony of noise. Shouting voices, smashing objects, breaking glass, etc.

"WHERE THE FUCK IS SHE?!" the Joker roared. Jonny should have expected this.

"Doc! Boss, get down here!" he called out.

He whisked Harley into the dining room and set her down on the table. Rapid footfalls pounded down the staircase, and soon the Joker and the rest of the henchmen were downstairs.

"What happened?!" the Joker growled, pushing past Jonny to get to Harley.

"Hey Puddin'," she answered softly, a weak smile on her lips.

He smoothed down her hair, worry written plainly on his face.

"She got shot and fell overboard," Jonny explained.

The Joker whipped around and charged at the thugs who had been part of Harley's team, fire blazing in his eyes. "Why the hell didn't you go back for her?!" he screamed in their faces.

"We did!"

"Honest, Boss, but we couldn't find her!"

The Joker growled, and turned to the others. "Take 'em outside."

The thugs were escorted through the door, howling and screaming, by the rest of the gang. Jonny winced when he heard the gunshots. And then, quiet.

Meanwhile, the Doc, their crooked medical expert, had examined the wound in Harley's shoulder.

"It's not too bad, Boss," he said over his shoulder. "A bit of blood loss, but the bullet didn't go too deep."

"Just fix her!"

Doc set quietly to work, removing the bullet and sewing the hole shut. He had a bottle of whisky to clean the wound, and Harley took a couple of long pulls from it. The sting of the alcohol was nothing compared to the sting of the tweezer plucking out the bullet. Her head felt foggy, and her eyes fluttered closed. The last thing she saw was her Puddin', watching over her.

* * *

Harley woke to a burning pain. Her shoulder felt raw and battered. She needed painkillers, and quick.

Lying immobile for a few minutes, she let the memories of last night flood her brain. She was pretty sure she passed out while Doc was stitching her up, and she had no memory of going from the dining room to the master bedroom, which she shared with Mr. J. But there were snippets of memory, flashes of her waking up in the middle of the night, unable to sleep through the pain. And she remembered her Puddin' being there all night long. He had been lying next to her, brushing her hair and murmuring words of comfort, his luminescent face hovering above hers. She remembered how worried he seemed.

This was the side of him that only she was privy to – he would never act this way in front of the others, not even Jonny. When he was the big, bad boss, he had to act tough, show them that nothing bothered him. But when they were alone, he could be vulnerable, even tender and sweet. Those were the moments she relished. Those were the moments she lived for.

She sat up slowly, gingerly easing herself off the bed. She walked over to the mirror on the other side of the room, and balked at the sight of herself: she was pale (more so than usual), with bruising all over her arm and chest. She looked like she hadn't slept in days. Frankly, she looked like the undead.

Shaking that morbid thought from her mind, she dressed and made her way downstairs, clutching the railing for support. She found Mr. J and Jonny talking in hushed tones in the dining room. As soon as she entered, both their heads snapped up. The Joker was in front of her in seconds.

"You're not supposed to be out of bed," he warned, wagging a finger in front of her face.

"Couldn't sleep anymore," she responded, shrugging. The action made her grimace. She gave Joker a quick peck on the cheek, before taking a seat at the table.

"How ya feeling, Harls?" Jonny asked.

"Peachy," she smiled. "What were you boys talking about?"

"Jonny was just telling me about what happened yesterday," Mr. J said, taking the seat next to Harley. "I'm trying to find out who let the plan slip."

"What d'ya mean, Puddin'?"

"I mean I think someone's been telling our secrets to the wrong people."

Harley looked over at Jonny; he only nodded.

"You think someone tipped off the cops?" she asked.

"That's what Jonnyboy here thinks," the Joker sighed, opening up the floor to the other man.

"They had to've known," Jonny explained. "They were there too soon after the explosion. We might have a double agent here."

"Is that why you killed those guys last night?" Harley asked the Joker.

"No," he pointed a finger at her. "They died because they didn't do their job." Harley cocked her head. They had planted the bombs with her – hadn't that been their job? Seeing her confusion, the Joker explained further, brushing a stray hair off her face. "They didn't protect _you_." His thumb brushed her cheek, and she leaned into his touch. And to think, there was a time when she thought he didn't care.

"So what are we gonna do next?" she asked sweetly.

"Jonny, round up the gang," the Joker instructed, not taking his eyes off Harley. "I've got a few questions for them."

"You got it, Boss."

As soon as the young man left the room, the Joker stood and offered his hand to Harley. "Now, as for you, I want you to go back to bed and rest."

"Will you join me after?" she said, bouncing up out of her chair.

"As soon as I'm done down here," he promised.

He pulled her in for a quick kiss before walking her out of the room. She ascended the stairs, feeling light as a feather. At the top of the stairs, she stole one last glance at her Puddin'. They exchanged smiles before he disappeared deeper into the house. Harley sighed and drifted into their bedroom, her mind filled with Mr. J.


End file.
